


The Spell Will Tell

by dbshawn



Series: AEDWQ 2020 [5]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24199294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dbshawn/pseuds/dbshawn
Summary: Things get hairy when Eames places a bet.
Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception)
Series: AEDWQ 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1708540
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	The Spell Will Tell

**Author's Note:**

> Week 5
> 
> Prompt: When I Think of You
> 
> Genre: Sci-fi
> 
> Word Count: Precisely 300 words

"You won’t last,” Eames gloats, angling his head in the sun rays coming through their window.

“Nothing I enjoy more than proving you wrong.” Arthur glared back.

That was eight days ago. Dom brought Arthur along to help survey the Belara province on planet Zedrion. New space colonies meant new opportunities. Nothing intense, mostly digital mapping and remote sensing.

Arthur showered, shaved, packed his clothes and equipment and scurried along; focused and determined.

The first few days, Arthur maintained his cool, his face as creamy clean as when they landed. Then an engineer passed him smelling of vanilla musk, tilting his thoughts straight to Eames’ throat and stubble appeared all along Arthur’s jawline. He held steady until he noticed a crescent shaped dimple on another engineer’s cheek. Then his facial hair became a working man’s shadow.

When the foreman leaned down to discuss their satellite system’s position, his rich bass voice plucked a nerve in Arthur’s belly so deep that he took a lengthy bathroom break to recover. And emerged with a fully grown mustache perched above his lips. Finally, Dom offered him a Concorde pear, its rounded bottom so pert and akin to an ass he adored, he was forced to end his day early.

Sometimes Eames liked to cast spells. Nothing dark and terrible. Arthur declared he’d never had a crush on Eames. So his colleague bet him that he couldn’t go a week without pining for him. And if Arthur’s thoughts did linger on a certain half-fae half-wizard, his facial hair would grow. Every single time. It was harmless fun really.

By day ten a sullen Arthur answered a video call from one Benjamin Eames.

“Arthur darling!” Eames roared with laughter.

Arthur grumbled as he stroked the ends of his beard. It was now touching his chest.


End file.
